He said he didn’t know that anything had “happened.” But something was wrong with her face. The muscles on one side weren’t working right.

“Does that…hurt?” I said.

He didn’t think so. “But one side of her face is drooping, kind of. It’s upsetting.”

“That’s awful.” Jesse shook his head. “What’s causing it?”

“They don’t know for sure, but the doctor says it’s most likely something called Bell’s palsy.”

“Which side of her face?” I asked.

“What?”

“Which side?”

“I didn’t ask. Why?”

I was thinking about how Angelica had fallen off the loft at the lake cabin that summer. Maybe when she hit the floor, something got broken after all.

“Is there a medicine she can take for it?” I asked.

“I don’t know, honey. They’ll have some answers in a few days. Maybe the whole thing will be over by then.” He looked at me. “Bea, you look upset. Don’t be. She’s going to be fine.”

If she was going to be fine, why did Dad look worried?

Jesse reached out and grabbed my hand. “You’re a good kid, Bea. A really good kid.”

Which made me feel horrible. Really horrible.

Because I knew I wasn’t good.

Sisters

Sonia stayed with us for six nights. We listened to all of Frog and Toad. We listened to Harriet the Spy. We listened to Charlotte’s Web. We listened to M.C. Higgins, the Great. We stayed up very late a couple of times, even though I had school in the morning. I never fell asleep before the end of a story while Sonia was there. Dad knew we were up way past my bedtime, but he never said anything, and neither did Jesse.

Those tapes were helping. Sonia had even pushed her couch a little closer to my bed so that she could hear better. (When it got late, we turned the volume down.)

On Sonia’s last night, she crouched over my tape collection, which I kept in a cardboard box in my closet.

“What about Paddington?” she called from inside the closet. “I used to love Paddington.”

“Not that one,” I said quickly, and she didn’t ask why.

We listened to Frog and Toad again.

Every night, I hoped that Sonia and I would talk in the dark. It was part of the story in my head about what sisters do. But Sonia never talked. After the last Frog and Toad story, I clicked the tape recorder off.

“Are you tired?” I said into the dark.

She didn’t answer.

We were in our nightgowns, with our beds lined up and not too far apart. Rocco was curled up on the floor, and I could hear our dads talking in the other room. Did that add up to real sisters? I didn’t know.

I fell asleep.

—